Write the night away, and dream the day away…

It’s that time of year again. When the days are getting longer, sunnier, and warmer, and all I want to do is roam, free as a bird, and take in the atmosphere of an approaching summer.

Then there are the exams. And essays. Those big bullies. They force me to remain inside, locked up in my room, or behind big glass windows in the library, laughing at me as I longingly look out on the sun-bathed city and harbour.

This year, another bully has joined the others. A bigger and badder bully than the rest. His name is Rugby World Cup. And he teases me with the prospect of drinking and partying all night long, and having a lazy as day the next day.

But my brain, bullied and beaten, recoils from its dark corner, and tells me that no matter how tempting it is to give in to the bullies’ taunts and bad influence, I must focus on my assignments first and foremost. And so I try to do that.

On the first day I wrote 1,100 words on a 2,500-2,800 word film essay. On the second day I added another 1,000 words. On the third day I decided to try a different approach and started all over again; 660 words on the third day. On the fourth day the New Zealand national rugby team, the All Blacks, were playing Australia in the world cup semi-final. Words written: 0. Beers consumed: roughly 7.

I can’t know the meaning of self-discipline unless I cave in once or twice, right?

On the fifth day, I woke up at 11am and then spent almost 4 hours reading Harry Potter. Word count so far: 281. On assignment: Zero.

Time to turn the day upside down and live out my fantasies while I’m awake and spend the dark hours writing without interruption…

The Return

 

In the 1 ++ month since I last wrote a blog entry,  a lot has happened. Not much has changed, but a lot of exciting things have taken place in my life.

The main one is that I returned to Norway for a quick visit. That’s the first time I’ve seen my family and friends in a year and a half, so that was quite exhilarating.

I was hoping for three weeks of sun, barbecues, swimming in the ocean and hanging out with friends all day long but, alas, I must have forgotten that I was going back to a Norwegian summer. That means max. 15 degrees Celsius and rain. Bucketloads of rain. Overall I got to experience roughly 3 whole days of sunny weather and temperatures above 20 degrees Celsius. But at least I got to see my friends and family.

Oh, and the day before I returned to Norway was the date of my boyfriend and mine’s 6-month anniversary, and we celebrated it with a romantic dinner at night. It was really sad having to leave the next day, but at least I got to spend that important milestone with him, which I’m thankful for.

I returned to NZ on July 12, two days after the uni holidays had ended, so it was straight back to uni for me – I even missed out on a few lectures. But now, a week and a day later, I’ve gotten back into the normal routine of going to uni, studying, hanging out with people whenever I can and, best of all – today I’m seeing my boyfriend again, for the first time in over a month! Ever since I woke up this morning I’ve had butterflies in my stomach at the thought of seeing him again tonight (at 8pm), and they are not getting quieter as the hour approaches; on the contrary!

I’m actually in a literature lecture atm, but I can’t concentrate, so I figured I might as well update my blog.

It’s good to return, no matter where to. The very word implies roots, which, whether I like it or not, I have. In different places. Family, friends and my childhood roots me to Norway. More friends, education, and the love of my life roots me to New Zealand. So travelling between the two places is not like travelling to ‘another’ place, it is always a return, to a place I call home.

Race Against the Clock

Yesterday I had my final tutorial for trimester 1. All that remains to do now are my final assignments, and then I’m officially halfway through my BA.

So today I’m spending roughly 6 hours working on one of my essays, which is due on the 13th of June. The essay draft is over 2,500 words long, and the essay is supposed to be between 2,000 and 2,500 words, so I feel like I’ve got the hang of this.

At some point this afternoon/evening I’m catching the train to Upper Hutt to spend the weekend with Nathan at his mum’s place. Of course I’ll be bringing my notebook and stuff with me, but I suspect that might be more just so that I can feel good about myself…

Anyway, I’ve still got two more essays to write, and one of them has to be between 2,000 and 2,500 words, and the other has to be between 2,500 and 2,800 words. I haven’t started writing those two yet, and they’re due on the 14th and 16th of June. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I’m sure it’ll involve copious amounts of coffee, wine, and tears. And swearing.

I do, however, have the best motivation possible. Nathan. He’s got a week off work after his course finishes next Friday, and he’ll be in the Wellington/Upper Hutt area for that week, catching up with his mates, seeing his mum, and spending time with me. Of course I want to be able to spend as much time with him as possible, and that motivates me to work my butt off before his course finishes, so that I won’t have to do (too many) all-nighters when he’s free. Also, that’s the week before I go back to Norway for three weeks, so it better be good.

I hope everyone understands that this blog entry is just me procrastinating. I want the time to fly by – the sooner I get to go and see Nathan, the better – but at the same time I die a little bit every time I cast a glance at the clock and realise that another hour has gone by, and I’ve only written 300 words on the proper version of my essay. Better get back to it, eh.

I Hate Doctors

Well, actually, I do acknowledge that most doctors do a great job, my hatred is directed more at the need for doctors at all.

Every time I see a doctor about something (which, up until this year, happened very rarely – why? See the title) I leave the doctor’s office scared sh*tless. If I wasn’t worried when I walked in, I sure as hell will be when I walk away.

Take today, for example. You all know I use my legs to get around. And for the past 3-4 months a pain in my left foot has caused me great discomfort and made me cut back on my walking, so it’s having a negative impact on my life, which I won’t allow any longer. I’ve tried letting my feet rest for days and weeks, I’ve taken painkillers, anti-inflammatory “drugs”, put deep heat on three times a day, all to no avail. So to the doctor I went.

Actually, it was a nurse.

Anyway, she had a look at my feet, and found that they look normal, and asked me lots of questions about the pain, how long it’s been like that, etc., etc., and then I started mentioning other things that have bothered me for a while. So she ran the usual tests, and I swear every other time I’ve had those tests taken they’ve been normal, but today this nurse discovered that I was running a fever, and that my blood pressure was low. Cue surprised face on my part.

So she sent me to see an actual doctor. Mainly about my foot, because she didn’t know anything about feet, apparently. So half an hour later I saw the doctor, and he didn’t have much time for me. He didn’t have time to look at my foot, but was very interested in my fever.

After lots and lots and lots of questions from him he told me that I should make another appointment with the doctor I normally see, and that I should have some more blood tests taken (I had some taken about a month ago), this time to check my red and white blood cell count. That’s when my brain just went WAIT! REWIND THAT PLEASE! WHAT?!? And then he sent me on my way.

Now, if I walked into the doctor’s office wondering about my sore foot, that was NOT what I came out thinking. For the rest of the day I’ve been convinced that there is something really terrible going on with me, and what annoys me is that the doctor didn’t take the time to explain why he wanted me to have my blood cell count checked. The first thought that came to my mind was “isn’t that what they do when they suspect that someone has cancer?”

I’m seeing my regular doctor next Monday. Because doctors make me paranoid with their vague diagnoses and cryptic answers, I am now wondering if I will even live that long. I don’t feel too great…

Oh Armageddon, How I Love Thee

And no, I’m not talking about the movie. Although I do quite enjoy that, too.

I am, of course, referring to the crazy end-of-the-world prediction(s) made by the crazy religious American Harold Camping. “The End is Nigh” – on May 21 2011 the world would come to an end at sunset, meaning that it would start with a massive earthquake in New Zealand at 6pm and travel around the world from there (westwards, naturally, all so that the Americans could sit back and watch the apocalypse unfold on their TV screens before it hit them) – OMG I’VE NEVER HEARD SUCH BULLSHIT BEFORE.

And Camping knew that this was going to happen because he had “deciphered” clues in the Bible. Go check in to a mental hospital, dude. You’re one of those ludicrous religious fanatics, just so you know.

I suppose most of you already know that he also predicted the apocalypse in 1994. Hey, big surprise – it didn’t happen. In fact, the biggest natural disaster in 1994 (in the Western World) was probably the Jan 17 Northridge earthquake in Los Angeles, CA, which had a magnitude of 6.7 and killed approximately 57 people. Not exactly something to shout “doomsday!” about.

Oh and I almost forgot to tell you – I woke up to May 22 a couple of hours ago. And boy, was she a beauty.

You know, if the world did somehow end overnight, and this is what the world looks like after Armageddon, and I find myself stuck here because I don’t believe in the Bible BS, whereas all the Christians were swept away to be with God – then I’ve got one thing to say to all you believers out there: YOUR LOSS.

Also, your loss, our gain. A world free of Christians could only be a better one.

As a student, and an atheist student at that, last night I did what I do best in the face of adversity or, in this case, a crazy prophecy: I drank and partied like the world was about to end. But you know what? Don’t be scared, it’s not going to end, nor do I believe it, it’s just something we do pretty much every weekend.

We don’t need to think that the end is nigh to party like there’s no tomorrow. Because we are reasonable, intelligent young people, not brainwashed, but educated, and we know that the sun doesn’t stop rising just because some madman says so.

The Countdown Is On

In exactly one month I will be flying out of Wellington, headed for Norway and three weeks of summer and seeing family and friends.

At the moment I’m trying to finish (lies – start) my final assignments for this trimester. I’ve got three essays due to be handed in on the 13th, 14th, and 16th of June. They all have to be between 2000 and 3000 words.

As for what I’ve been doing lately, I’ve got three words to sum it up: uni, boyfriend, parties. I’ve spent far too many days (and nights) in the library so far this year, writing essay after essay, doing research and drinking coffee. When I’ve had a day or two off I’ve escaped to Christchurch to be with Nathan, or he has come to Wellington for the weekend to see me. This long-distance thing is really working quite well (apart from the economical side of it, naturally. But it’s all worth it). Thursday last week I jumped on a plane and flew down to spend the weekend (as well as Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday) with my man, because he got some days off work due to a back injury, so I wanted to be there for him and keep him company. Plus it was his birthday last Monday (he turned 22), so of course I wanted to be there for that.

Nathan and me at my flatmate's 21st

I had just come home from university last Thursday and looked up flights to Christchurch, and there happened to be a really cheap flight that afternoon, and a cheap return flight for Wednesday (yesterday), so I quickly threw some things into my suitcase and got a taxi out to the airport, and an hour or so later I was in his arms at Chch airport.

For once I was a bad student (but a good girlfriend); I missed out on all my lectures this week as well as two out of my three tutorials. Oh dear. Thank god for Blackboard.

I took Nathan out for dinner on Sunday night because he had to go to work on Monday, but on Monday night we went to the movies, so at least he got to do something fun on his birthday. Then on Tuesday night we went to his auntie and uncle’s place for dinner, which was great, and on Wednesday night (our 5-month anniversary, incidentally), I flew back to Wellington.

This Sunday he will fly to Wellington to do a course just outside the city, so he will (hopefully) get a chance to come and visit me every weekend. After his course is finished he has a week off work, and that’s the week before I fly back to Norway (and the week when all my assignments are due), so it’ll be great to have him around then.

As for the parties I’ve been to lately… Well, most of them have been held at the house where I live. We had our awesome flat warming, and so far we’ve had two 21sts, and the party for the second one is actually tomorrow. It’s got a 1950s theme, so I went and bought a dress for that today.

My flatmate's 21st (Hollywood themed)

So much is happening right now, and I love it. This year has been amazing in almost every aspect so far, and when I get back from Norway I will seriously start looking for a part-time job. Also, in one month’s time, when I’ve handed in my three assignments, I’m halfway through my bachelor’s degree. Fancy that, huh.

Me dressed up as a gypsy at our flat warming (circus themed)

Love and other drugs

Hello, hello.
First of all: Happy New Year to you all. I hope 2011 will be a great year for everyone I know. Myself included. (And I think it will be.)
There hasn’t been much action on my blog in the last month, but that’s only because there has been so much happening in my life. Trust me, I’m still alive.
Three weeks and two days ago I met someone who completely changed my life. My past, my present, my future – it all looks entirely different to me now thanks to him.
(Warning: This story may contain sappy parts. Consider yourself warned.)
Here are the odds we beat: I’m from Norway; he’s from Upper Hutt. He lives in Christchurch; I live in Wellington. He’s in the army; I’m a student. I was visiting a friend in Upper Hutt; he had just come home for Christmas a few hours before. His best friend is my best friend’s best friend. He was on his way to a friend’s 21st with my best friend’s best friend; my friend and I were at her parents’ Christmas party, and got invited along to the 21st at 11pm.
I was tired and not intending to go, but said ‘What the hell, I’ll go’. We met when they came to pick us up at my friend’s parents’ place. Instant thought: ‘Holy shit. Hot guy. Tall guy.’
Turned out he is 6 foot 7. And in the army. That combination alone was enough to draw me to him. Then I discovered that he’s the nicest and most caring guy I’ve ever met, with a great sense of humour and an awesome playfulness. WINNER.
After the initial meeting we decided to meet again, and three days later he drove to Wellington to see me, and from then on we pretty much lived together for the three weeks he was on leave.
I’ve never been happier.
We went and did so much together, and there wasn’t a moment of boredom. I got to spend some time with him in Upper Hutt at his mum’s place, helping out with various jobs and exploring the place.
Then, of course, came the time for him to go back to his job in Christchurch.
I went out to Wellington airport with him to see him off, and it was so horrible saying goodbye. There were tears once he’d disappeared through the gate.
Now I’m counting down the days until I see him again, which will hopefully be on the 29th this month. Then I’m going down to Christchurch sometime in February, and we’ll go on a roadtrip down to Dunedin. Having something to look forward to helps me get through the days.
In other news: I’m moving to another flat before the end of the month, to live with friends. Tomorrow I’m going on a camping trip to Somes Island, which is the island in the middle of Wellington Harbour.
So much to look forward to, and all I can think about is how much I miss my amazing man down in Christchurch.